We'll Be Alright
by Nostalgia-in-Starlight
Summary: The sanctuary they had built can no longer sustain them. Sheltered amidst the ruins of a city once called home, Jim and Spock spend their last night slow dancing. Modern Day Post Apocalypse AU. K/S.


_**A/N: This is my first foray back into writing after a year long hiatus, so bear with me.  
**_**Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me. **

**We'll Be Alright**

"The emergency generator will last us until the morning."

Spock glanced up from the bag he was packing to see Jim watching him from the doorway of their kitchen. He made a grunt in acknowledgement, but did not comment. Jim was only confirming what he already knew. Dropping his eyes from Jim's weary face, Spock resumed his packing, making sure that he was packing as many food containers as efficiently as possible. For a few prolonged seconds, the only sound in the dimly lit kitchen was the clank of metal against metal as Spock stacked the canned food containers one on top of the other.

"Spock?" Jim's voice was hesitant, quiet. "I'm going to finish locking up." Spock felt rather than saw Jim turn and leave without waiting for a reply, the faint rustle of his clothing the only sound as he walked. Gripping one of the smaller cans in his hand, Spock let his head drop forward as he allowed the wave of guilt to wash over him. He knew he was hurting Jim by shutting him out without an explanation. Spock had been withdrawing into himself ever since their emergency generator started running out of power almost a week ago and consequently their imminent need to evacuate became a pressing worry. Though Jim had only called him out on it once, Spock felt the concerned looks Jim gave him whenever he thought Spock wasn't looking. What made Spock's chest clench in disgust at himself, however, was the confusion and hurt that he could feel from Jim every time Jim's words were met with nothing more than a small noise of acknowledgement. Jim would confront him about it soon, Spock knew this. He could only allow Spock to brood in his strange mood for so long before he tried to do something about it- because Jim would never let what they had between them to fall to pieces if he had any say. Especially not now. And Spock…Spock loved Jim all the more for his unwavering faith in them. If only his regard for Jim wasn't the crux of their current predicament.

Placing the last can in the bag; Spock stepped away from the table to peer out into the dark and ruined remains of what was once a beautiful city. A small section was lit with the embers of a raging fire that had been blazing for days. Spock suspected that it was some sort of chemical fire, though it was the least of his worries as it posed no immediate danger to their base.

Five months, twenty one days, and eleven hours ago, the world as they knew it had ended. Most of the world's population had been infected with a sort of retro virus that had devastated the planet in a matter of days. Those infected rapidly fell prey to a madness that stripped them of humanity and turned them into bloodthirsty creatures that hunted the living. They drank the blood of their victims, both to sustain and add to their growing population. Over the past few months, the number of survivors had been steadily decreasing. Spock and Jim no longer ran into survivors when they were out scavenging for food and ammunition. It was only with sheer determination that the two of them had managed to secure their house for so long. But even that was not enough against the increasing odds.

Spock stepped away from the window, mindful of the eyes that may be watching, and swept his gaze over the dimly lit kitchen. The empty pantry and two large backpacks were the only indicators of the events of the last few months. Everything else- the placement of the furniture, appliances, silverware- had remained unchanged, the same as they had been when the world was still alive and stepping outside did not bear the certainty of being hunted. If Spock closed his eyes and concentrated hard enough, he could probably make himself believe (if only for a few seconds) that everything was still as it should be and that the constant knot in his stomach was due to indigestion and not a bone deep fear of losing Jim at any moment. And fear was a strange beast, one that Spock had not been well acquainted with before all of this. Fear was what made him withdraw into himself and shut Jim out, because he could not fathom having to face this world without the one person whose life he treasured above his own. Limiting his interactions with Jim was a form of defensive mechanism that Spock had only reverted to once before: when his mother was dying of cancer. If he did not acknowledge Jim more than what was strictly necessary, then he would not have to be constantly reminded of everything that would inevitably be lost if Jim were to…

If Jim were to...

He could not finish the thought.

As if letting it go along with the breath of air he exhaled, Spock let his last thought be chased out of his mind unfinished. There were some other things to attend to. Checking to make sure the kitchen was secure, Spock flicked the switch to turn off the lights and ambled out to the foyer to check on their stash of weapons. Tomorrow, they would leave their house behind in search of a new shelter (and perhaps be lucky enough to find some allies). They had no choice but to leave. Their emergency generator had served them for nearly six months and was on its last dredges. Furthermore, the city was becoming more and more overrun by the blood-drinkers as the days passed and living sequestered with dwindling supply sources was no longer a viable option. Spock was, of course, loath to leave the house. Leaving meant the death of any illusion of normalcy. Leaving meant a bitter farewell to all the memories pictured and captured in the decorations that adorned the house.

But then… it has been a long time since sentiments had any sway in the world.

Purposefully adverting his gaze from the last framed picture mounted on the wall, Spock continued his trek through the house, making sure they had not forgotten anything essential. Though he had no intention of seeking out Jim, he was not surprised to find himself pausing in the entryway of the living room when he noticed the blond standing in front of their vast collection of books. Something within him would always seek out Jim, and Spock had learned to not be surprised by it a long time ago. A new and unnamable ache settled in Spock's chest as he watched Jim trail his fingers over the spines of each book. And even though he could not see Jim's face, Spock knew the sadness and heartbreak that must be written on the younger man's face. He took a step forward into the room, wanting nothing more than to offer as much comfort as he could, but self-preservation made him pause.

"I'm going to miss this place," Jim commented, still facing the shelves of books. Spock startled slightly at the sudden end to the silence but quickly turned his attention to the somberness of Jim's tone. His chest ached anew. Tempering down his admittedly unhelpful defensive mechanism, Spock forced himself to disregard his self-imposed distance and walk into the room.

"Jim," he said quietly, stopping a few paces behind the blond. The younger man's shoulders tensed and Spock watched with yet another form of sadness as Jim hesitantly turned so that they were facing each other.

"Spock?" Jim asked after a few seconds and Spock was guilty all over again when he saw the flicker of hope that Jim tried but failed to hide. It had been a full week since Spock looked into those blue eyes and seeing them now (so full of sadness but still bright with the determination to live) made Spock berate himself for being so, so stupid. Before Spock had the chance to say or do anything, however, Jim spoke again. "I don't want us to leave here without resolving whatever has come between us this past week. Tell me what's wrong. Let me help."

And with those words, Spock felt his resolve crumble as the world did not so long ago. Stepping forward, he reached out and pulled Jim to him, wrapping sure arms around the younger man's waist, noting but ignoring the faint squeak of surprise. It took less than a second for Jim to return the embrace, arms looping around Spock's neck and clinging tightly. "I apologize for my behavior", Spock muttered into Jim's ear as Jim shifted to hide his face in the crook of Spock's neck. "I have been most…illogical and I am so sorry for hurting you, beloved." He tightened his arms briefly before pulling back slightly and lifting a hand to tilt Jim's face up so that they were looking at each other.

"Will you forgive me?"

Blue eyes twinkled faintly at him, "Of course. But I demand an explanation." Spock expected nothing less and tilted his head in acknowledgement. Instead of answering, however, he leaned forward to press a kiss to Jim's mouth, lingering until he felt Jim return the kiss with a barely there smile. Pulling back after a few seconds, Spock extracted himself from the embrace and entwined his fingers with Jim's. He led them over to the couch, tugging on Jim's hand once he sat down to pull Jim in to his lap.

"Diversion tactics won't work, mister," Jim chuckled as he settled, resting his forehead against Spock's and rubbing the tips of their noses together. "I still want an explanation."

Spock pressed another chaste kiss to Jim's lips before shifting so that their faces were plastered together side by side. "I am…afraid," he confessed into Jim's ear on a soft exhale.

"Spock-," Jim protested, but Spock cut him off by holding him closer.

"When my mother was dying of cancer, I withdrew myself from her because I could not bear to be constantly reminded of everything I would lose with her inevitable death. Similarly, when we first drew the conclusion that we only had one week before moving became a necessity, I began to withdraw myself from you. It will be significantly more dangerous for us to be on the road. The odds of us surviving without a stable shelter are minimal at best." Closing his eyes at the sudden onslaught of emotions, Spock took a deep breath before continuing. "I cannot bear the thought of losing you, Jim."

When Jim made to move back slightly, Spock let him do so- though he kept both arms wrapped loosely around Jim's slender waist. "You've been avoiding me because you're afraid of losing me," he stated, and it was not a question because Jim understood everything he was trying to say. "You think that it'd be easier to cut me off first so that you wouldn't have any fresh memories to miss me by if something were to happen." Shifting his gaze from the intensity of Jim's too blue eyes, Spock inclined his head in affirmation.

"Spock," Jim said with a barely there chuckle and if there was any incredulity in his voice, Spock did not mind, "we really need to talk about your bedside manners."

Indeed.

A hand on his face brought his attention back to Jim and Spock looked up to find something unspeakable in Jim's eyes. Something electrifying passed between them, filling up the room simultaneously with warmth and coldness. Even the sudden sound of gun shots and screams of unearthly creatures somewhere out in the darkness did nothing to dispel the energy in the room. Then, as if being manipulated by the same invisible force, the two of them moved at the same instance. Lips pressed together in a kiss nothing short of desperate and somewhere in his mind, Spock registered the wetness on his cheeks as tears.

"Have you ever considered the possibility that I'll be okay?" Jim asked, both hands gripping Spock's shirt, face wet- and Spock realized that the tears he had felt had not been his own. "That _we'll_ be okay?" And the truth was, Spock _had_. He believed it too, once; but he had seen too much of what the world had become to truly believe anymore. Some days he looked at Jim and all he could think of was the bodies that are lying in the streets and the creatures whose eyes shone red when lit by their flashlights. But looking up into Jim's still damp eyes, Spock found the he could not voice his trepidation out loud.

Outside, the cries of the creatures continued to pierce the night air, each new sound threatening to destroy the quiet within the walls of their house. Then, as if using the wails of the night creatures for inspiration, Jim pressed his lips together into a determined line and climbed off of Spock's lap. Spock made no move to follow, instead, watched as Jim strode over to the stereo system and pressed a few buttons. Within moments, a familiar melody filled the living room, effectively dimming the sounds coming from outside. "Spock," Jim said, and crossed the room to where Spock was sitting to stand before him. Silently, Spock took the hand offered to him and allowed himself to be pulled into a standing position and led to the center of the room where there was more space for movement. He gave Jim a curious look when Jim looped his arms around his neck but did not hesitate to place his own arms around Jim's waist.

"Do you remember this song?" Jim asked quietly when the two of them started swaying gently to the music.

It was a song that had become popular sometime in the early in the century. He had heard it some time ago, though Spock did not quite know where or when or why it was important. "It's the song we danced to the first night we moved in," Jim said after a few seconds in which Spock tried but failed to find the right answer. There was no judgment in his tone, just a hint of amusement at Spock's apparently faulty memory.

"Ah," Spock intoned after another pause, "I remember." Jim grinned at his response and Spock would trade the world to see Jim smile like this everyday for the rest of their lives. "I thought it'd be fitting to dance to it since it is our last night here." Jim explained and Spock agreed but did not want to think of the implications. Instead, The two of them continued to sway to the music, both trying to remember a time when the world as they knew it still existed.

"_'Cause all of me, loves all of you,_" Jim sang softly and Spock held him closer. For the next two minutes while the song played, it was all Spock could do to keep moving, keep holding on to everything that was Jim. He was afraid of losing his composure if he did not. Hiding his face against the crook of Jim's neck, he listened to the lyrics that Jim sang into his ear and prayed to whatever deity was out there to _just let them live_.

"_'Cause I give you all of me, and you give me all of you."_

They continued to sway even as the song faded to an end. Some other night, Spock would mutter something about looking ridiculous and Jim would shove at him playfully, but tonight was...different. "I love you," Spock murmured instead, as genuinely as he knew how.

"I love you more," Jim said without hesitation, untangling them slightly so Spock could see the sincerity in his eyes.

"Not possible," Spock insisted and the way Jim's lips curled like smoke into a smile only made Spock love him more.

"I'm just as afraid of losing you as you are of losing me, Spock," Jim confessed quietly, pressing their foreheads together so that their breaths mingled in the space between them. Spock wondered, then, how he had missed the fact that Jim would be just as afraid. "I don't want to face this world without you. I don't think I _can." _Heart aching anew, Spock pulled Jim to him again. He never wants to let go.

"We'll be alright, you and I," Jim breathed quietly but firmly after a few moments.

"How can you be certain?"

"Because I believe in you and I believe in us," Jim stated without hesitation and something in his tone made Spock pull back slightly from their tight embrace. Cupping Jim's face between his hands, Spock marveled at the absolute trust he found in those too blue eyes. He leaned in and captured Jim's lips with his own in a deep kiss, surrendering himself to the intensity of Jim's belief.

Later, much later when the two of them were huddled together in an abandoned house too wary to sleep and losing hope because the shrieks of bloodthirsty creatures were too close for comfort, Spock would think of that night. And when the chilling glow of red eyes surrounded them, he would think of the trust in Jim's eyes and find strength to fight for another day. Because once Jim had said, "We'll be alright, you and I," and Spock believed him.

_-end-_

**A/N: Thank you for reading. **


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